


Amazing

by meelie98



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Dimitri gushes, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love denial, Mental Illness, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Puppy Love, Reconciliation, Suicidal Thoughts, flangst, lol, or should i say...boar love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meelie98/pseuds/meelie98
Summary: Honestly, Dimitri was not sure what courting had to do with it. Not in the slightest. The idea that if a man admired a woman’s skill he must have underlying, romantic intentions was, in Dimitri’s opinion, incredibly ignorant. Bordering on sexist. He said as much to Ingrid one day when they were on flying duty, expecting her of all people to agree. Which she did.“You’re completely right,” she nodded, caressing the nape of her pegasus’ neck. “Although you and the Professor are a poor example,”“Why is that?” frowned Dimitri.“Because it is evident to anyone with eyes that you fancy her.”





	Amazing

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for melissa. i am a claude gal myself but who can resist a big buff man with an eyepatch?

Dimitri thought the Professor was amazing. He always had. Since she first rescued him from those bandits in the woods.

That being said, it was in a purely objective, factual way. If Dimitri said that Mercedes was pretty or Annette was sweet or that Sylvain went through girls like Felix went through sword holsters, it was merely keen observation. Yet when he stated what was so obvious about their teacher – that she was incredible beyond belief – it was always _somehow_ warped into something scandalous.

“How do you just _say_ things like that?” Claude von Riegan had once asked during an interhouse supper.

“Things like what?” replied Dimitri, mouth full. Briefly, Claude squinted at him as though talking to a particularly stupid animal. Then he broke into an easy grin.

“All that stuff about Teach. And with no shame either. I just…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. Just wow,”

“Why would I be ashamed to have the academy’s best teacher? I feel you’re simply jealous you got stuck with Hanneman, Claude,”

“Oh, come now, Dimitri,” interrupted Edelgard, who sat across the table from them. “The Professor is truly_ astonishing _in battle. The Professor is _so adept_ at swordplay,” She mocked, deepening her voice exaggeratedly.

“You’d think she grew up a mercenary or something,” Claude quipped. “You know I’d have to say _my _personal favourite was,” He brushed a few strands of hair over his pale green eyes for theatrical effect. “_Perhaps your smile was the greatest victory today, Professor,_”

The last one Dimitri remembered saying word for word. He swallowed thickly.

“The way you speak about her is quite ridiculous. Face it, Dimitri. You are quite literally a schoolboy with a crush.” Edelgard had smiled as she said it, but there was something odd and stony in her expression. That paired with the embarrassment was almost enough to put Dimitri off his three cheese casserole.

But it took a lot to put Dimitri off a three cheese casserole.

“Oh hush,” He huffed. “These interhouse feasts are meant to inspire camaraderie. They are not just a chance to relentlessly tease me,”

“Aw, but that part is what makes them so fun,” smirked Claude.

Dimitri did not care. Not really. If his classmates had to reduce his admiration of the Professor down to mindless infatuation to fuel gossip, so be it. They were the simple ones. Not Dimitri,

He liked her because she was skilled beyond words and stoic to a fault and always encouraging in class – endlessly encouraging. He had never met someone so young yet so well versed in combat and strategy. She was brilliant. Why was it shameful to say so out loud? Case in point: the Professor was just a few years Dimitri’s senior but had mastered the sword in a fashion he could only ever _dream_ about. He said as much one day to Felix in the Knights Hall, who had replied, uncharacteristically sincere:

“The Professor is smart, and a good sparring partner. She would never court an animal like you. So please stop swooning over her. It’s pathetic to watch,” Felix glared so sharply Dimitri felt his mouth dry up. Still, he had grown used to Felix’s harshness. And Felix was right too, in a sense. Though this was all merely hypothetical, it was difficult for Dimitri to imagine the Professor caring for him in any way if she came to know how loathsome he was deep down.

Dimitri hadn’t even flinched at Felix’s words– merely raised a brow and chuckled disbelievingly, turning away to chat with Catherine. Honestly, Dimitri was not sure what courting had to do with it. Not in the slightest. The idea that if a man admired a woman’s skill he must have underlying, romantic intentions was, in Dimitri’s opinion, incredibly ignorant. Bordering on sexist. He said as much to Ingrid one day when they were on flying duty, expecting her of all people to agree. Which she did.

“You’re completely right,” she nodded, caressing the nape of her pegasus’ neck. “Although you and the Professor are a poor example,”

“Why is that?” frowned Dimitri.

“Because it is evident to anyone with eyes that you fancy her,” Before Dimitri could respond she had zoomed around a corner and left his jaw and wyvern hanging in the air stupidly.

Now if anyone knew whom Dimitri fancied, it was Dimitri himself. And he was _sure_ he did not have feelings for the Professor. He was no idiot. He knew how the other male students…discussed the Blue Lions’ teacher. He had reprimanded several of them for it before. Angrily. But in all honesty, he paid the Professor’s apparent beauty no mind. She wore rather odd clothes and even now he found her stare a bit unnerving. If Dimitri did fancy her, which he did not, her looks were certainly not the reason why. Although, he couldn’t help but think of her whilst out with a girl Sylvain had set him up with. She was a waifish, simpering thing, so pale and blonde you might mistake her for a ghost. It had made him long for the Professor’s lean muscles and cold, hard gaze.

But Dimitri was sure that was simply because the Professor was a much better conversationalist than that girl. Her concerns had included crests, golden earrings and little else.

“She was sweet,” Dimitri lied to Sylvain the day after. They were talking under their breath in the midst of a seminar. Women, dating, mild insubordination during class - it was all new to him, and his gaze kept straying to the Professor nervously. “But still, I’m not sure I would like to see her again. She was, um…how do I put it? I don’t know. She was a very lovely girl, but she was not…”

“Byleth?” Sylvain suggested, grinning.

Perhaps Dimitri was not doing himself any favours when, instead of retorting, he simply scowled and said:

“Is it really appropriate to address her on first name terms, Sylvain?”

Sylvain had burst out laughing, loud and amused. The Professor whipped around from the blackboard, a deadly glare on her face. Dimitri could feel his ears turning red. Sylvain just kept laughing.

Only once did Dimitri ever actually worry he had a crush on the Professor. It was prior to certification exams. He had holed himself up in the library, surrounded by books, certain he would never live up to the title of Lord. Annette and Mercedes had come to see him late in the evening, the former carrying a tray of sweet treats with her.

“You mustn’t overwork yourself, Your Highness,” Mercedes shook her head. “I can sense how tired you are,” Annette was a little more inclined towards hardwork than Mercedes, but her advice was similar.

“You’re not going to take anything in if you’re falling asleep between textbook pages,” she shrugged, chewing on a rather substantial brownie chunk. “Why are you so determined to pass this moon, anyway? There’s no harm in retaking in a few weeks so you don't feel the need to cram,”

Dimitri gripped his head in his hands, eyes scanning the textbook pages fervently. None of the information on battalion types was actually sticking. He felt himself tearing up in frustration. How was he to lead an entire nation if simple academic work brought him to tears? Never before had Dimitri felt so humiliatingly young.

“I just…” How pathetic their future King must look. How Dimitri loathed himself. “I do not wish to disappoint the Professor,” He peered up, expecting to see Annette and Mercedes staring at him with a mixture of scorn and pity.

Instead they looked as though they had stumbled upon a box full of puppies.

“_Dimitri!_ You’re worried what _the Professor_ thinks? Oh of course you are, oh you are _so_…”

“I can’t lie, I thought everyone was exaggerating but I guess you really must car…”

“And you’re worried what the _Professor_ will think!? That is…”

“She would prefer you look after your health, Your Highness.."

“All of this for a teacher? But I suppose she isn’t just that to you, is she? Silly of me…”

“You are so sweet, Your Highness, I’m truly..”

Perhaps it was all part of some grand ploy to get him to sleep, but that had been it for Dimitri. He quickly packed up his things and shuffled to the dormitory. Lying in bed, Dimitri wondered if he actually was infatuated with Byleth. It had apparently become a rather defining aspect of his personality, to the point of inspiring 1am library crooning sessions in his classmates.

Was it _that_ strange to want to impress a teacher?

No, it wasn’t. He slept soundly, which is to say he woke up just twice in a cold sweat. He passed the test with flying colours.

* * *

(There was one other time Dimitri worried he was in love with the Professor. It was at the Goddess Tower, near enough to midnight. After hours spent watching her dance with other students, his stomach felt odd. If Dimitri tried, he could convince himself he was concerned that the Professor, a known introvert, might be tired out by all the never-ending noble smalltalk. If Dimitri was honest, he was so jealous he felt as though his bones might break. He told his rather bemused Professor all about the myth surrounding the tower. He had made some silly suggestion like _what if we wished we were together forever,_ then he had laughed it off, and then he had begged the Goddess to make it happen anyway.)

* * *

For 9 years Dimitri had a list in his head of all the graves he had to visit.

If Byleth had a grave, it would most likely be Dimitri’s responsibility. He imagined himself clipping the weeds there, cleaning the stone, placing flowers on it. He would make it neat and quiet and tidy and worthy of a person like Byleth. In an ideal world she would be buried beside her Father and Mother at Garegg Mach.

Scratch that. In an ideal world she would be alive.

When the time came, Dimitri would sit at the Professor’s beautiful, well-kept resting place and speak at length about how he had finally avenged her. How he had finally sliced the head from that wretched woman’s neck and watched the blood spurt out.

Maybe Dimitri had been a bit in love with her. Frankly, it was slightly odd to imagine the non-existent grave of someone you _didn’t _adore. But if it hurt – that on top of everything else, they had never found his beloved teacher’s body – he didn’t show it. He showed nothing anymore, nothing beyond a desperate, bone-deep desire to behead Edelgard Hresvelg.

* * *

Dimitri thought that someone was having him on.

Some strange twist of fate had allowed him to end up here again; sat across from his Professor with a cup of chamomile tea in his hands. If Dimitri closed his eyes he could almost go back half a decade, back to when he was a blushing schoolboy, excited to be alone with his favourite teacher.

Almost. Dimitri hadn’t washed in days and the sweat and dirt clinging to his skin served as a testament to where he really was. What he had done. He opened his eyes, done inhaling the sweet scent of tea. He saw his fingers looped around the tiny handle of the Professor’s porcelain cup. He thought of the blood caked beneath his nails. Even now he could hear specters everywhere, breathing down his spine, taunting him, demanding revenge.

“Dimitri?” said the Professor. Immediately his focus narrowed to her face. It was as expressionless as ever. Maybe in the slight crease of her left eye there was a hint of concern. Maybe. Dimitri swallowed, lamenting how rusty he had become at interpreting her emotions. “Are you feeling alright?” She added.

“Fine.” He nodded.

“You haven’t touched your tea. It’ll get cold,”

“Well. I am unable to taste it either way, so…”

There was a horribly long silence between them. The Professor stirred her tea thoughtfully, gaze fastened to the table.

“Truthfully I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore, Dimitri,” She settled the spoon down on the oak with a soft _thunk_. “I thought we may never sit down like this again,”

“Me too,” Dimitri gulped. “Feared it even,” At that, Byleth smiled, steepling her hands and relaxing a little in her seat. In turn, Dimitri felt the tension leave his muscles. He recalled the joy it had brought him to coerce a small grin out of the woman years ago, during tutorials.

“Feared it, hm?” She sighed. The memory of joy quickly left him. “And yet you haven’t made things particularly easy for me,”

_Fool._

Dimitri felt he might combust with shame.

“How I acted was detestable,” he blurted out, setting his cup down with far too much force. The scalding tea splashed onto his wrist and he hissed through his teeth. The Professor reached out to grab at him, but he wrenched his arm away. “I was monstrous. You have been nothing but kind and courteous to me and in return I have demeaned you. You lost five years of your life. You- you were surely hurt and confused. To find me in such a wretched state must have been damnable. And – and I have done things whilst you were gone that – that are…shameful…“

“Dimitr-“ she interrupted.

“_Inhuman_ even. I killed so many people, Professor, unhesitatingly. Bu-but I’ve allowed my guilt for my own actions, my rage, to - to _consume _me and blamed you for it. Yet more proof of what a beast I am. I was vicious. I could see your pain. Desired it even. I can remember wanting to hurt you. I wanted you to hate me as I hate myself. Somehow you did not- you – you remained sympathetic and patient and…”

“_Please_, Dimitri, you ar-“

“I am tormented so, Professor. By voices. Even visions, sometimes. I can’t sleep soundly; I cannot spar for pleasure. I can’t…” He laughed pitifully. “I can’t even drink a cup of hot tea. Somehow, I have failed on the battlefield too, though it’s the one place where I thought I was capable. You have led this army, Professor, not me, if we are honest. But my shortcomings are not your fault, nor are they our comrades. Please know that I am eternally sorry. I would get down on my _knees_ before you right this moment if it would please you - “

“Dimitri, stop this, that is hardly -"

“_No. _I will never stop wanting your forgiveness, not so long as I breathe. And it’s pathetic, truly, especially after how I have behaved towards you. If - if you resent me, choose to turn your back on me after all that has happened, I would understand wholly. The same goes for all the Blue Lions. I have shown my true nature to you and it is evidently loathsome. I fear that - that in my desperation to pay back the dead I have racked up a debt with the living. I see how they look at me, Professor. Like I’m pitiful. Or terrifying. Or both. And then - when – what _Rodrigue_ said to me as he – as he was-“

“_Dimitri._” the Professor snapped, bringing the boy back to his senses. He fell silent, lips still parted. “Calm down. You burnt yourself,” Again she reached across the table, sliding her hand up past Dimitri’s thick leather gloves. Embarrassingly, he could hear his own breath hitch at her touch, and not because it stung. Now he saw it was quite an ugly burn, red and shining, though in truth Dimitri could feel next to nothing. “You should take this silly thing off,” Standing suddenly, Byleth walked around the table and removed his coat for him, draping it on the back of his chair. Her fingers brushed the nape of his neck soothingly. If she had bothered listening to Dimitri’s groveling, she had decidedly chosen to ignore it. “We are not in a harsh Faerghus winter right now,” she smiled. Then the Professor walked to the corner of her room, dunked a washcloth in the basin of cold water beneath her bed and brought it to him. “Hopefully this will cool it down.”

Dimitri blinked, speechless. Byleth refilled his cup.

“Why are you like this?” He asked, finally.

“Like what?”

“Did you not hear what I just said? That I desperately sought to hurt you?”

“I heard. I don’t care,” Byleth sat back down. Dimitri gaped. “Well,” She added. “Of course I care a bit. Nobody _likes_ to get hurt,”

There was another long silence. Yes, Byleth was kind and strong and regal. One thing she wasn’t was straight-forward.

“I do not understand,” confessed Dimitri.

“You said you did that because you wanted me to hate you, right? Well, I don’t plan on giving you the satisfaction.”

“What does tha-“

“I wasn’t patient out of pious compassion, Dimitri. I was patient because I care for you very much. I’ve waited this long just so we could have a cup of tea together. Of course I forgive you. How couldn’t I? I just wonder if you could ever forgive yourself.”

“No.” said Dimitri, instantly. It was as though the ghosts spoke on his behalf.

“Is that so?” Byleth sipped at her tea thoughtfully. “Well, to me it’s clear you’re worthy of forgiveness. I think you’re a good man, Dimitri. Honestly. Better than most. Beneath your past and your…struggles, you’re kind-hearted. Hard-working. _Brave_. You were all those things back when I taught you,”

“I have changed so much, Professor,”

“I can still see all of that in you now. Although you try to hide it,” Distracted, she glared pointedly at the wet rag hanging limp in Dimitri’s hand. He quickly pressed it against the burn. Her expression relaxed. “I’m just so glad you’re speaking to me again, Dimitri…” She trailed off, her gaze taking on a sudden glassy quality. “Just know that if you refuse to look after yourself, I’ll do it for you,”

He felt tears pricking in his eyes and quickly blinked them away. The last time Dimitri cried had been 6 years ago, after killing a particularly young bandit whilst out on a class mission. In the years since he had done far worse without so much as a sniffle – he had done far worse and relished in it. That slim schoolboy who had skewered a thief and bawled for hours seemed ridiculous now. Even then he had seen far bloodier scenes and heard far more chilling screams.

Maybe that boy hadn’t been ridiculous. Maybe he just felt things in a way Dimitri would never be able to again.

At that time the Professor had been a comfort too. He did not understand the endless well of kindness she kept inside herself for him. What had he ever done to deserve such a thing?

“Still I…I have been cruel,” Dimitri countered, weakly. In truth, he did not want to feel this way any longer. But he did not deserve the potential happiness the Professor was offering him. They told him as much; the voices, there still. There forever, no doubt, regardless of the Professor’s warmth. Beneath his tunic, bruises throbbed and great gashes peeled and oozed, unbandaged. The damp cloth she had handed him was pale against his grimy forearm.

When was the last time Dimitri had allowed someone to care for him in such a small, unspoken way? When was the last time he had touched someone who wasn’t on the brink of death?

“Think of what happened to you, Dimitri. What else were you meant to be?"

“Gentle,” his voice cracked as he said it. “If only to you.” He reached across the table and clutched Byleth’s hand for dear life.

Goddess, it was tiny.

Slowly, his Professor raised her brows. It seemed she was processing what Dimitri had just done, attempting to decipher the meaning behind his words.

“Tell me, Dimitri, what do you want? Really?” Her lips quirked just slightly, enough that someone other than Dimitri may not notice. It was as though she had remembered something funny. “If you could wish for anything, what would you wish for?”

_A hot bath. Functioning taste buds. Edelgard Hresvelg’s head on a spike. Silence. You, forever._

“I wish I was dead,” He admitted. Perhaps for the first time. “I wish I had died with my parents that night,”

Byleth’s grip turned vice tight.

“Please do not say such things,” she begged, face contorted in sadness. For him.

“It’s true though,” mumbled Dimitri. “Would things not have been easier had I died then?”

“_No_,” Byleth hissed. “No. I can’t imagine a world where I didn’t meet you,”

“Why not?”

“Because I think you’re amazing, Dimitri,” Her thumb rubbed soothing circles on his wrist. “I always have. Since we first met when you were attacked by those bandits,”

Someone somewhere had stopped the Earth in its tracks. Dimitri was certain time had halted. Someone had found his adolescent journals and reenacted the most fantastical, self-indulgent moments contained within them just to make this practical joke even crueler. Soon Dimitri would wake up huddled in a freezing Northern cave, good eye trained on a group of thieves. He could only stare at his hand, interlinked with Byleth’s, and wait for that moment. When the shallow stab wound on his shoulder ached too sharply not to be real, Dimitri peered up, dazed.

Then he brought the Professor’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Thank you,” he muttered against her skin. “Thank you.”

* * *

Here is how it would happen: Byleth would help Dimitri, and Dimitri would help Byleth. She would push him to recover and Dimitri would become the kind of King an archbishop could rely on. Dimitri would wallow and Byleth would snap him out of it. Byleth would lie motionless, checking for any trace of a heartbeat, and Dimitri would kiss her throat’s pulse point. He would stop calling her ‘Professor’ and start calling her ‘beloved’. They would suffer and they would laugh, and they would drink tea. They would go on to live lives so full and content they almost made up for everything beforehand. They would live, full stop.

And if anyone mocked Dimitri for gushing over his wife too much, he would simply shrug it off.

After all - it was hard for him to deny that he fancied her anymore.  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! Please please pleaseee leave a comment and some kudos if you enjoyed!!!!!!  
EDIT: I usually use indentation but after one very rude commenter complained about a 'wall of text' I shifted the format!! sorry if the large block of text was difficult to read unless you are that one particular commenter !! <3


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